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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26054161">Utter Utter Blood</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViktoryKill/pseuds/ViktoryKill'>ViktoryKill</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Boredom, Gen, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Loneliness, Out of Character, References to Depression, Social Issues</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:28:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26054161</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViktoryKill/pseuds/ViktoryKill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Keith just wants to be alone, and thinks about the time when that wish was fulfilled.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith &amp; Shiro (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Utter Utter Blood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me. I'm just mucking around.</p><p>Let me know how far out of character Keith is down in the comments if you wanna.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Click click.</p><p>Clatter.</p><p>Breathing.</p><p>High-pitched squeal, more clittering.</p><p>The sound of Pidge.</p><p>Sweet girl, for sure. Keith had seen her type when he was younger, back when he was still in school. Fond of tech, fond of video games, fiercely loyal - if she was your friend, she was your friend 'til the end. What did those three things have in common? Who knew. But he'd seen them join in harmony too often for it to just be coincidence.</p><p><br/>
Still... he wished she'd just go away. It wasn't just her. If anything, she was his favorite out of everyone. But he liked his peace, he liked his quiet, he didn't want to be bothered with people. At all.</p><p>He could still remember that precious year, when he was 17-years-old. He was taken into Planet Mech for intensive soldier training, where he was isolated from all life and surrounded by nothing but blue sky, tall grass, and all kinds of weird tablets that were supposed to give him nutrients. Which they very well may have, but they also got him pretty stoned, not gonna lie.</p><p>Anyway, that was the single greatest year of his existence. Loneliness. It's a state that bothers most people. Drives them to depression, to madness. Kills their desire to live, if it gets bad enough. It was seen as something he'd have to train to get used to, so he'd at least have a fighting chance were he ever left isolated during a battle.</p><p>And while at first it had been painful, almost unbearable, in a very short time, Keith began to fall in love with the state of being alone.</p><p>For once in his life, there was no one to pester him about his reticence, about his generally silent nature and natural desire to blend into the background. For once, he could actually stand in the foreground without being the center of attention.</p><p>For once, he was just living life, not having to account to anyone, or justify himself to anyone. Responsibilities? Well, maybe he still had them. But he could fulfill them in his own way in his own time. </p><p>Ecstasy. It filled him like a bloodrush to the head, and for the first time in far too long, he'd actually felt happy. Not a "force-a-smile-so-they-leave-me-the-fuck-alone" type of joy. The real thing. </p><p>But it was still a simulation, and he still had to fight various AI-controlled machines that were sent periodically to his location. He didn't mind this; it was great fun, actually.</p><p>But one fateful day - probably goddamn Friday the thirteenth - he got into a literal scrape with one of them; during a sword fight he mistimed a strike and slashed himself on the machine's metallic body. It was a long, bad cut that ran from crook of his elbow up to his wrist, and he bled out like a waterfall.</p><p>He got taken to the hospital, stitched together, kept for observation, put on even more drugs... and eventually, honorably discharged. </p><p>A year later, he was sent to this mission. Voltron, or whatever it was called. </p><p>Everyone around him seemed to be getting along fine. Hunk and Pidge were best buds, Lance was chatty with everyone (though he did tend to get on people's last nerve), even Princess Allura - a bloody royal alien who was unfamiliar with Earth people and customs - got on beautifully with everyone. </p><p>But as usual, he stood out, on his own, as the quote-on-quote "loner in the corner of the room." Pidge even had the midge to literally call him that, like he was a character archetype in some fucking TV show.</p><p>His disgust and irritation was tough to hide; even through his gentle, fake smile and plastic aura of good vibes, he was pissed and unhappy and bored and would've rather been anywhere but here, and it wasn't hard to tell. </p><p>"Got it!" Pidge yelled about something. "So cool! Lance, looky here! It's yours!" She ran out the room, her shoes clanking noisily on the metal floor.</p><p>"Oh my God!" Lance's voice floated in, louder than it should've, or could've, been. "Let me add something. <em>Cheese</em>!"</p><p>What they were talking about, Keith didn't know. Something nice, surely, probably video games or the - Christ, why was he acting like he cared?</p><p>He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. His hand was against the LED screen that would instantly light up if an emergency happened. He was praying he'd feel its warmth soon, and he could get out of this suffocating, boring environment.</p><p>"Keith?" </p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Utter utter blood.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>The thought blasted in his ears like a broken record every time he encountered shit he didn't like. Probably because of the injury that had prematurely knocked him out of what he'd considered paradise. </p><p>"Yeah?" he turned around, trying to sound affable. When he opened his eyes, he saw Shiro in front of him.</p><p>"Are you okay?" The older man was smiling.</p><p>"Sure," sighed Keith. He was glad it was Shiro. He was a little easier to deal with. A chill guy, if there ever was one. </p><p>"You look a little depressed." Shiro sat down next to him.</p><p>"I'm fine." Keith forced a grin.</p><p>"Good." Shiro slapped him on the back. A "you're-a-jolly-good-fellow" slap, the kind Keith had grown to tolerate. "You're a good fighter, you know that? You've been here just a few months, and already you're killing it."</p><p>"Mmm-hmm." Keith was beginning to feel anxious.</p><p>"Keep up the good work, all right?" Shiro stood up to leave.</p><p>"Sure, sure." Keith said it a bit too hastily, trying to sound chatty and affable, in actuality showing just how excited he was that Shiro was going.</p><p>Luckily, Shiro wasn't the type to get offended. He just smiled, waved at Keith, and walked out. </p><p>Keith looked at the clock in the corner of the screen display. 10:00. Only 10:00. A full sixty minutes of dead air, if he wasn't lucky, followed by more endless dead air in his assigned bunk bed, staring at the ceiling until dawn.</p><p><strong>Utter, utter blood</strong>.</p>
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